


Autistic Creative Challenge: The Goodies

by AutisticWriter



Series: Neurodivergent Goodies [2]
Category: The Goodies (TV)
Genre: 1970s, ADHD Graeme, Ableist Language, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Creative Challenge, Autistic Tim, Best Friends, Biphobia, Bisexual Biromantic Bill, Bisexual Homoromantic Tim, Bisexuality, Bullying, Dated Technology, Depression, Drabble Collection, Dreams and Nightmares, Echolalia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode Tag: Kitten Kong, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Heterosexual Biromantic Graeme, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jigsaw Puzzles, Kittens, LGBTQ Themes, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Neurodiverse Headcanons, Neurodiversity, Nicknames, Nonverbal Episodes, Phone Calls & Telephones, References to Sherlock Holmes, References to The Royal Family, Scars, Sensory Overload, Slurs, Special Interests, Stimming, Tim Is Adorable, Undiagnosed ADHD, Undiagnosed Autism, Union Jack Flag, meltdowns, parental abandoment, record player
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-12 04:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7086274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles focused on Tim being autistic, inspired by Autism Acceptance Month. I am autistic and headcanon Tim as autistic too.</p><p>Inspired by uniqueaspergirl's Autistic Creative Challenge on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. #RedInstead

Bill looked up in surprise when Tim came out of their bedroom, and his eyes widened.

“Why all the red, Timbo?”

Tim smiled at him, his finger twisting around and around a lock of his blond hair. “I just felt like it.”

Instead of his usual blue suit, Tim was now wearing a maroon suit, and a blood red tie under his usual Union Jack waistcoat.

“Well, I think it suits you.”            

Tim beamed, walking with an exaggerated bounce as he crossed the room and sat down beside him.

“Thank you.” He said, taking Bill’s hand and squeezing it hard.


	2. Stimming

Tim’s fingers slipped the needle onto his record, and soon the sound of his ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ record was blaring out of his gramophone. He turned the volume up until it was all he could hear, running his fingers all over the buttons on the front of his waistcoat.

As the music blared, Tim let himself spin around and around, feeling his hair flutter against his cheeks and the air ripple between his fingers as he stretched his arms out and the way his head was spinning with wonderful dizziness, and how, in that moment, everything was perfect.


	3. Special Interest

“What’re you doing, Tim?” Graeme asked.

His friend had been sitting at his desk in his corner of the office all morning, flicking through books and snipping things with scissors. Tim looked up, showing Graeme a blob of glue stuck to the end of his nose.

“A collage,” he said, smiling bashfully.

He wiped the glue from his nose, and picked up his work of four hours. Indeed, it was a collage of photographs of the royal family. He loved the royal family, and it showed.

“Do you like it?” Tim asked.

“It’s great, Tim.” He said, watching Tim grin.


	4. Communication

Sometimes, when he was tired or scared or just stressed out, Tim found communicating difficult. He could still speak, and he knew what was going on, but talking became so hard it made him want to cry.

He didn’t know why it happened, he didn’t know how to stop it, but he was grateful that his friends understood.

One night, when Tim was resting his head in Bill’s lap, Graeme handed him a notebook.

“Why don’t you try writing instead?”

“Thanks,” he stuttered, smiling.

And then he scribbled, y _ou’re a great friend._

Graeme smiled. “Shut up, you soppy git.”


	5. Freebie

Tim always remembered the moment he realised that Bill really loved him.

They had been out, and Tim was so stressed by everything being so loud that he sat down on the pavement and rocked and cried.

And a man walking past stopped to call him a retard.

And Bill went mental, yelling at this stranger and trying to hit him, and got punched on the nose and told to bugger off.

And it was then Tim realised that, if Bill was prepared to get injured to defend him, then he must have really cared about him. And he did.


	6. Food

Sometimes, Tim didn’t remember to eat. He never really felt hungry, so he forgot to eat. He could go for hours or even days without eating, and he wouldn’t notice. It was only when Bill or Graeme put food in front of him, or if he was cooking himself, that he would suddenly realise how hungry he was.  

Aside from actual food, he loved to chew, and that meant he loved sweets. He could eat his way through whole packets of lemon sherbets and sugary chews. He really did have a strange relationship with food, but he didn’t really care.


	7. Spoons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is based on the Spoon Theory: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spoon_theory

Tim was exhausted. They had spent all day out on the trandem trying (and failing) to help a woman who had requested their help, and he was totally drained.

Sometimes, Tim wondered why he seemed to be more tired that Bill and Graeme when they all had done just as much exercise as each other. Graeme said it might have been because he had less energy to start with, and Tim was inclined to agree with him.

Still, he tried not to think about it as he snuggled into Bill’s chest, letting his partner ruffle his hair, and fell asleep.


	8. Crowd

Everything was too loud, too bright, too busy, as he staggered through the crowded London backstreets. Tim clung to Bill’s hand, squeezing Bill’s fingers so hard he winced, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

Every time a person bumped into him, it felt like knives were stabbing his flesh, and it took a lot of restraint to not scream. Blinking back tears, Tim screwed his eyes up and let Bill tow him along. He hummed Land of Hope and Glory to block out the noise, and bit his nails, and just wished he could get out of here.


	9. Phone Calls

Tim took a deep breath and bounced his legs under his desk, trying to tell himself, _you can do this_ as he picked up the phone and dialled the number.

“Hello, Bill.”

“Tim? Why’re you calling?” Bill said, the line crackling so badly Tim could barely understand him.

“Well,” He looked over at Graeme, who was smiling sheepishly. “Graeme’s experiment went wrong, and he may’ve set your corner on fire.”

“What?!” Bill yelled. “Put him on right now!”

Tim found himself smiling, and handed the phone to Graeme, glad to let him take over. He hated phone calls so much.


	10. Labels

“How would you describe yourselves?” Tim asked Graeme and Bill one evening. “I mean, your sexual orientation, and things like that?”

“Bit random,” Bill said, chuckling. “But, I think I’m bi, and then obviously I’ve got depression, haven’t I?”

Tim smiled sadly; he hated knowing that his partner had been suicidal.

“I’m straight, but I think I might be romantically into blokes sometimes,” Graeme said, blushing.

“Well, I know I’m bisexual. Plus, I’m different in some weird way, aren’t I?”

When he was little, the doctor thought he had schizophrenia, but Tim knew it wasn’t that. He was just different.


	11. Collection

Tim was truly obsessed with the Royal Family. As Bill walked around Tim’s corner of the office, all he could see was photographs of the royals and books and collages of photos and drawings, and cuttings from newspapers and posters . . . it was all very impressive, if a little bit strange.

And then he thought about the Union Jacks. They were everywhere too, all over his corner, and, of course, he even wore them.

He picked up Tim’s Union Jack patterned Royal Family scrapbook, and flicked through it. It was so detailed, so carefully crafted, so obviously loved, and Bill smiled.


	12. Sensory Overload

He wanted to listen to his record, but even the lowest volume was too loud. He wanted to play with his hair or spin around, but his skin felt horribly sensitive to even the slightest touch. Everything hurt. He started crying, rocking back and forth in his seat. It was horrible.

And then Bill’s arms were around him, rocking him, squeezing him tight.

“It’s all right, mate,” he whispered, his voice soft. Bill sat down on his lap, and Tim pressed his forehead against Bill’s chest, the pressure of his hug and the weight wonderfully calming. “You’re fine. You’re safe.”


	13. Autistic Character

“What’re you reading, Graeme?” Tim asked.

Bill looked up from cleaning his saxophone with an old pair of Tim’s trousers, and watched Graeme look up from his book.

“ _The Sign Of Four_ ,” he said, smiling like he was glad Tim was taking an interest in him. “It’s a Sherlock Holmes book.”

Tim smiled too, twisting his finger around a lock of his hair. “I like Sherlock Holmes. He’s a bit of an outsider, and everyone thinks he’s weird. Kind of like me.”

Graeme smiled, amused, but Bill frowned. “We don’t think you’re weird, Timbo.”

Tim reached for his hand. “Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock Holmes is another of my many autistic headcanons, and I guess he's one of Tim's headcanons too. :)


	14. Nonverbal

Bill knew there was something wrong with Tim. He knew he frequently found it hard to speak, but it had never been this bad. Now, whenever Tim tried to talk to him, he would try to open his mouth, only to make no noise. He literally couldn’t speak, and that scared him.

He found Tim under the duvet in their bed. He climbed in beside him and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tight. He knew Tim liked the pressure.

“How do you feel?” He whispered.

Tim shuffled around, smiling weakly, and scribbled him a note:

_I’ve been better._


	15. Stim Toys

Tim could spend hours playing with his old cigarette lighter.

It was empty, and he didn’t want any fuel in it either, because he didn’t use it. Instead, he just liked to flick the lid on and off, and on and off, and on and off, and listen to the pleasant clicking noise it made. It had a lovely, smooth texture, and was a comforting weight in the palm of his hand. And, best of all, it was patterned with the Union Jack flag.

Graeme had created loads of fiddle toys for him, but the lighter definitely was his favourite.


	16. Autistic Utopia

Tim sat at his desk, leaning back against his chair, smiling broadly. He held his lighter in the palm of his left hand, using his right hand to play Land of Hope and Glory on the gramophone. He closed his eyes and rocked backwards and forwards, playing with his hair and flicking his lighter, and smiling a rare, broad grin.

He looked so relaxed, so content, so peaceful, that, from across the room, Bill started to smile.

“Doesn’t he look sweet, Gray?”

“Well, he’s not really my type, but I see what you mean.” Graeme said, and he smiled too.


	17. Inspiration

“I love the Queen, you know.”

Bill looked up, bemused. Tim’s statement had come out of nowhere; he had thought he was asleep.

“Yes, we know that, Tim,” Graeme said, sounding half asleep.

“She did so much during the war for the war effort, putting her life at risk and everything, and she was a princess, so she didn’t have to do it, but she did, I think that’s amazing.”

Bill put his arm around Tim’s shoulders, smiling at the look of beaming patriotic pride on his sleepy face. He was so sweet at times like this, he really was.


	18. Puzzle Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The puzzle piece refers to the horrible group Autism Speaks.

“I hate puzzles,” Tim said, the moment Bill walked into the room. He was clearly stressed beyond belief, clenching his hands into fists and chewing on his lip.

“Why?”

Bill walked over to Tim’s desk, where Graeme had left a half finished jigsaw puzzle.

“When I was little, my mum always said I was like a puzzle, but with a missing piece. But that makes me sound defective.”

Tim’s eyes were shining. “But I’m not defective, am I, Bill?”

Bill pulled him into a tight hug. “Of course you’re not. She was bloody horrible. You’re perfect. You’re my perfect Timbo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was hard to write a story set in the 70s based on a prompt about a group from the 21st century, but I think I did all right!


	19. Routine

At seven in the morning, Tim suddenly sat up in bed. Bill groaned and rolled over to look at him.

“Tim . . . what’re you doing?” He yawned. “It’s the weekend.”

“I need to get up now,” Tim said flatly, getting up and pulling the curtains open. He spent several seconds getting the curtains to lie symmetrically. Bill covered his eyes and groaned again.

“But—”

“I need to get up now, Bill.”

“Can’t you just have a lay in for once?”

“No, Bill,” Tim said, beginning to get stressed. “I really have to.”

“But, _why_?”

“I don't know why. I just do.”


	20. Animal or Pet

It took hours, but Graeme finally got rid of the giant rats, and Tim breathed a shaky sigh of relief. He was so stressed that he couldn’t stop shaking, and he knew he was in danger of losing the ability to speak.

He was surprised, but relieved, when Bill plonked Twinkle the now very small Kitten onto his lap. Despite the hassle Twinkle had caused, he was very sweet, and very, very fluffy.

Tim smiled, and began to run his fingers through Twinkle’s fur. It was so soft, so soothing . . . he almost forgot that this kitten had been terrorising London.


	21. Honesty

Tim couldn’t lie. It wasn’t that he felt guilty for doing it (although he certainly was capable of feeling guilt, which Bill could vouch for), it was more the fact that he physically couldn’t bend the truth. It wasn’t something he knew how to do, and no one really knew why.

So Tim was often brutally honest. Asked if Bill’s shirt made him look fat, he said, “It does a bit.”

But he didn’t mean any harm by it, and, to be honest, his blunt honesty was actually quite amusing sometimes. Particularly when it was directed to someone Bill disliked.


	22. Favourite Place

Tim’s desk was, without a doubt, his favourite place. He loved the comfortable padding of his chair, and the texture of his desk, and the fact he had a perfect view of the television, and the fact all his favourite things were within easy reach, such as his fiddle toys and his record player. He was always his calmest when he was at his desk.

Bill watched from across the room as Tim played his favourite record and began rocking to the music, waving his fingers about in the air and smiling peacefully. He looked so content, and Bill smiled.


	23. Happiness

“Are you happy, Tim?” Bill asked.

Tim looked up from his book, frowning in confusion. “Yes, thank you.”

Graeme chuckled at his polite, but clueless tone. Bill smiled too, because it was actually pretty funny.

“But, seriously, are you happy?”

Tim nodded. “Yes, really. Why have you brought this up, exactly?”

Bill sighed. “I was just wondering.”

Tim reached for his hand and interlocked their fingers. “Really, I am. I know it sounds sappy, but, when I’m with you two, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Graeme laughed. “You’re right. That was sappy.”

“I know,” Tim smiled. “But it’s true.”


	24. Support

Sometimes, Graeme thought that Bill was kind of an emotional crutch for Tim. When Bill wasn’t here, Tim struggled to function. To be honest, Tim totally relied on Bill. He needed him.

So, now Bill wasn’t here, Tim was struggling. At one point, he broke one of Graeme’s test tubes, and burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, hitting himself on the forehead.

Graeme tried to calm him down, but nothing he said worked. In the end, he called Bill, and got him to talk to Tim. Slowly, Tim stopped crying, and he began to smile tearfully. Graeme smiled too.


	25. Freebie

_“Why are you such a retard?”_

_“Fuck off, Tim, nobody likes you!”_

_“You’re so annoying!”_

_“Just shut up!”_

_He tried to run, but his legs wouldn’t work. All of the kids and teachers who called him names and beat him up and didn’t stop the bullying crowded around him, their words spinning around his head until he started screaming._

Tim woke up, drenched in sweat, tears running down his cheeks. He sat up and rocked back and forth, struggling to breathe.

And then Bill’s arms were around him, soothing him, hugging him. And that helped more than he could explain.


	26. Echolalia

“I’m a teapot! I’m a teapot! I’m a tea pot!” Tim cried, over and over again.

“Are you all right, Timbo?”

“Are you all right, Timbo?” Tim said, flatly, and then he sighed heavily. “Sorry. I know it’s annoying.”

“It’s all right, mate,” Bill smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t help it.”

“Can’t help it.” Tim clamped his hands over his mouth.

Graeme smiled fondly. This happened a lot, usually when Tim was stressed. He didn’t know why it happened, but he was pretty sure it was harmless. Bill looked at him, and smiled too.

“I’m a tea pot!”


	27. Colour

Red, white and blue. They were Tim’s favourite colours. They were on his clothes. They were on all of his belongings. They were everywhere.

One morning, Tim walked out of the bathroom wearing everything but his trousers. Bill could see his Union Jack boxers and socks. He was frowning, and Bill giggled.

“Bill, where are my trousers?” He asked.

Graeme stumbled out of the kitchen with soot all over his face, coughing as smoke billowed out after him. “Err, I can answer that.”

Bill didn’t even bother to ask, and found Tim another pair of trousers before he freaked out.


	28. Empathy

Graeme noticed that Tim seemed to be more empathetic than most people. He burst into tears whenever a sad story came on the news, he cried along with him or Bill if they ever seriously hurt themselves, and he cried until he was sick when he first saw the scars on Bill’s arms. One time, he started crying when he broke his pencil.

He didn’t know why Tim cried so easily, why he cared so much, and he tried to not think about it. Because, in the end, it didn’t really matter. And he knew Bill thought it was sweet.


	29. Overthinking

“It doesn’t make sense,” Tim said, clenching his hands into tight, trembling fists.

Graeme frowned. “We know, Tim.”

“Why would they reject you, Bill?”

Bill sighed heavily, locking eyes with Graeme. “Because I came out as bi. They didn’t like it, so they rejected me.”

“But why?”

“Because they’re bigots, Timbo,” Bill said shakily. “That’s all there is to it.”

Tim was frowning, biting his lip. Graeme could see that he genuinely didn’t understand. But, to him it made perfect sense.

“You’re over thinking it, Tim.”

“I know,” Tim mumbled. “But I can’t help it. I just want to understand.”


	30. Neurotypical

When Graeme thought about it, it wasn’t just Tim who was different.

He, Graeme, was hyperactive, fidgety, with a poor attention span. And they had no idea what caused these symptoms. He had always been this way.

Bill was much more obvious. Scars littered his arms and sometimes he never got out of bed. He had depression, and, despite what Tim thought, Graeme knew he still relapsed fairly often.

And then there was Timbo. He was socially inept, and obsessive about the things he loved.

All three of them weren’t exactly normal. But that was definitely not a bad thing.


End file.
